All The World Has To Offer
by Marley Jones
Summary: Set in Harry's sixth year, all regular chaosadventure ensues.
1. Orange Marmalade

Orange Marmalade

It had been a while since Harry had gone into a muggle shop. Aunt Petunia sent him for groceries once or twice, but then she considered the prospect of him stealing the money and running off with it. He never liked it when she sent him anyway. People would stare at him, ask him if he was lost and even call the police to help him find his way home. Luckily, Harry had no reason to look lost now, not with a party of this size.

"Is there any type of jam that you would prefer, Harry?"

"Hmm?"

Not focusing on the situation at hand, Harry lost track of what isle Mrs. Weasley had led Ron Hermione and him down. Apparently this one had to do with jam.

"JAM, Harry. She asked you if you'd like any JAM," Ron acted as if Harry had gone deaf.

"Right. Erm...Orange Marmalade? If possible."

They strolled down the isle lazily, magazines in the teenagers' hands, trying to fully experience the muggle lifestyle. And they were succeeding quite nicely.

"Mrs. Weasley? Do you mind if we get some whipped cream? The canned kind? I haven't had that in ages."

"Of course Hermione, dear. Just put it in the basket. It's quiet all right; muggle money is absolutely worthless in the wizarding world. We could surely buy this whole isle twice over."

Which was saying something; they happened to be face to face with Italian Caviar, in tiny, useless tins. Soon the boys became bored with their magazines on how to properly find the appropriate cufflinks for the fox hunt, and nearest available magazines were the ones Hermione was reading.

"You done with those?"

Boredom overcame the boys who gave into Hermione's pile of periodicals, lying unused in the bottom of the basket.

"You can't be serious."

"What if we are?"

"Then I get to see yours."

"Fine."

Harry exchanged his _Horse and Hound_ for Hermione's _Vogue_ and Ron watched the transaction carefully, wondering if that was the proper course of action. Once Harry opened _Vogue_, eyes wide, he knew it was.

"Hermione, could I trade you too?"

"Why not. Here."

Luckily for him, he got _W_. Slowly he turned the magazine sideways, as if to get a better interpretation of what the hell the photographer was getting at. Not that he would complain, but he though it a bit odd that, well, you know...

"Why, exactly, does this girl not have any clothes on?"

"I was wondering the same thing," came Harry, running to catch up. He had fallen back a ways, more interested in fashion than walking.

"Hmm? Oh, that's the new thing in fashion. Actually, it's not all that new. I guess it's their version of art. I mean they have to make it respectable somehow." She barely looked up from _Horse and Hound_ to respond. Then again, she always liked cufflinks.

"Art? That's"-pointing to a Kalvin Clien ad-"art? How could they possibly get away with that? Not that I'm complaining, but you have to wonder."

"Ron, think of it like this; if they make a profit selling the magazine, which is apparent judging by your reaction, they can publish anything the want, just as long as it looks nice. Does that help?"

"No."

"I guess your on your own, then."

"WAIT! Are you breaking up with me?"

Harry sighed and returned to his magazine. Ever since they became and "item", although Harry was never sure of the meaning, Ron had become paranoid that he would lose Hermione, thought that she'd think better of it and him. He's been a lot less, well, idiotic ever since. But not in the sense that he hasn't realised that Hermione has stuck with him for nearly six years already.

"Love does funny things to you, I guess," Harry said not realising that he was alone, wandering about three isles behind the Weasley's. Each isle became a blur as Harry lost track of his surrounding, deep in the analysis of each new fashion photographer and there use of, um...

SMACK!

Well, that "analysis" didn't get him very far. As wands, glasses, _Vogue_ and blonde hair went flying, Harry came to the realisation that he had run into someone.

"I'm terribly sorry... I didn't see you..." Harry said, fumbling for his glasses.

"It's quiet alright, most people don't," said an unmistakably dreamy voice as a pale hand gave him his glasses.

"Luna? What... how are you? Did I hurt you?" Harry said, astounded. He couldn't think of any odder place to run into another wizard. Then again, this was Luna Lovegood.

"Not physically, no. I'm well, and you?" she said, helping him up. She seemed well adjust for such a hard hit.

"Didn't you fall over at all? I mean...I...er, I must of hit you rather hard. Didn't I?"

He always felt a little awkward around her, although that feeling had lessened considerably since the Slug Party. She was definitely a sight to she. He still couldn't believe that she dressed rather normally.

"I ran into you," Luna said definitely.

"What?"

"Well, you nearly ran into that nice muggle serving samples of his new sausage, just there," She point and Harry grimaced, noticing that the nice muggle was also displaying new, self-sharpening, brand of meat cleavers, "so intentionally ran into you rather then have to intentionally heal you in front of all these muggles."

"Okay, er...sorry about that, then."

"No problem. I needed the practice. What were you looking at?"

"Er...nothing," he said, suddenly immensely embarrassed.

"It must have been interesting. Nothing that I would read of course, I tend to be quite loyal to the _Quibbler_. It just seemed like you were putting an awful lot of thought into something so blatant as fashion."

"So, erm... how has your summer been.?" said Harry, quickly trying to change the subject which proved effective.

"Oh, Delightful!" beaming, she divulged a heart wrenching story of a poor SparkKnicker that curiously found it's (they apparently have no definite gender, thus explaining the "it") way into the Lovegood home. Luna had spent the summer looking for the poor fellow's family and had learned quite a bit about the SparkKnicker culture. Harry indured this for about five isles as they wandered aimlessly, looking for the Weasley's.

"...so, that is why we're here. You see, Garfunkle has a fondness for Chutney. And being in a muggle environment really helps the Muggle Studies process."

"Wait, who's 'we'? Is your dad here?" Harry snapped out of the kind of trace Luna's voice usually put him in. He heard the word "we" and kind of lost it, thinking that she meant them. He had already daydreamed enough about Ginny this year and didn't want another girl in his head.

"Oh, I suppose so. He came here with me but I haven't seen him for about three hours."

"What? Did he leave you here Luna?"

"I trust that he had reason to do so, but yes, he did."

"Don't you need to get home?"

"Eventually."

He had forgotten all his previous panic of him and Luna being an "item" (again, he still isn't sure of the meaning) in her eyes because of the party, and he had begun to worry about her well-being. Surely, it wasn't a great sign that she was miles away from any wizarding families with no way to get home.

"I imagine he's forgotten about me again."

"WHAT!"

Harry was now in a fair panic as to the situation of her Father's sanity. How could you leave someone like Luna all alone like that?

"No worries Harry, he does that sometimes, he's a little absent minded, or rather his mind was left at home. He usually keeps it there."

"But, but you need to... don't you...can I give you a ride?"

"Oh, you'll be glad to know that very little of my belongings were stolen this year. I think it's because that they are afraid that you'll curse them, since were friends now." She sort of looked up hopefully and then forward again very quickly.

"Are you asking if we are friends? Of course we are Luna. Why would you think other wise?"

"Well, since you said that we were going to Slughorn's Party as friends, I thought we were and then we lost touch and we didn't do anything as friends anymore. I enjoyed myself there and I thought that maybe you left because you were cross with me since I didn't say so. But the rest of my house still thinks that were are, so no harm done." She smiled as if that was all she needed. Harry looked in astonishment. How...how...

"No no no. I didn't leave because of you. Something..er, came up."

"That's settled then. I knew you weren't like anyone else," She strolled down the isle beaming and chatting about Garfunkle. She found his name in a muggle music shop and started calling him that since she didn't speak Sparklish.

"Oh and if you find any light purple socks with a golden map of the Butterbeer factory in Germany on them, let me know. They should jingle."

"I thought you said that nothing was stolen."

"Nothing besides those. I do hope I get them back. They don't sell those socks anymore, apparently not very popular, I can't think of why."

"I can't stand the fact that people do that to you."

"Wh-at?"

"If they would just get to know you, they'd see how great you are. People have no respect, they can only cope with what they know. You deserve better, Luna"

She looked positively aghast. Harry didn't realise the impact of his word until he looked up from his shoes and at her.

"Th-at wa-as very...kind of you...to say..."

"It was true" he said with all sincerity.

She suddenly looked at him with the harshest of glares, as if to question his integrity. A few almost angry second s passed as Luna tested his honesty, coming with in a centimetre of his nose, until she stood back and a broad, truly happy smile unfolded upon her face, as if she liked what she found.

Luna threw her arms around Harry and kissed his ear. Steadying himself, Harry heard a tiny "thank you" in his wet ear and felt her pull back, still bearing the 1.21 gigawatt smile that he couldn't help but smile back at.


	2. Welcome Mat

  
  
Soon after that, Mrs. Weasley rounded a corner and found a distracted   
Harry, standing next to the new Locally Made Food section. He seemed to be starring quite intently at some Haggis (Raised by Sean Dalzell and Prepared by his wife, Margaret), and barely took any notice of the Weasleys, but walked beside the other 2/3 of the trio, who were still bickering.  
  
As they were walking out to the car Harry was floating along until he  
realized something. Not something he had forgotten, really. Actually he  
couldn't stop thinking about her at all since they parted. Unfortunately for Ron, who's only intent was to get back home, Harry's profound realization came, halfway back to the Burrow.  
  
"Why of course dear, right away," and a dramatic U Turn was Mrs. Weasly's response to Harry's plea to return to the market, while Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to hang on for dear life.  
  
The car seemed to fly on it's way back, until Mrs. Weasley smacked the  
dashboard saying "Cut it out!" while the 1978 Peugeot the Weasley's found to compensate for the lost Ford Angelina, slowed to ramming speed, which is hardly breaking the sound barrier. Upon arrival, Harry tried to leap heroically out of the car, but instead tripped over several things on his way to the sidewalk, feeling a bit like after a Gringrott's trip.  
  
When Harry finally found his feet, he was racing up and down the isle  
looking for the familiar Ravenclaw, that had mentioned, just under an hour ago, that her father might have forgotten about her. After a full twenty minutes of bribing the manger and janitor to let him search the storage area and both bathrooms (this was Luna, she could be anywhere), Harry left so dismayed, he hadn't realized that the bribery consisted of two Sickles per person. He could only hope that she had found her father or had gotten home safely otherwise.  
  
Trudging back to the car, he saw an extra body inside, head turned toward Ron, chatting furiously. Harry's heart leaped as it forgot his former woe, as he practically skipped back to the car.  
  
"Harry, look who joined us! Ron you probably haven't seen Luna since you both were nine! Now look at how grown she is!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerily, smiling at Ron, "So much like your mother. How is business going at the Quibbler, dear?" They trailed off into a conversation about that particular publication while Harry jumped in the back, in-between Ron and Luna.  
  
Ron did not look very happy, as his row with Hermione didn't go very well. By the looks of it, she one and was sitting contently in the front seat. Ron was glaring at the car seat in front of him, hoping his stare would bore through to Hermione.  
  
"Don't get girls, I don't think I ever will. Why do they have to be so  
completely mad all the time? Can't they speak English?" He glared at Harry, who was watching Luna's conversation with amusement and a small smile starting on his mouth. "And what are YOU so bloody happy about, eh?" Not about to dignify that with an answer Harry just kept watching Luna, waiting until he could talk to her. He didn't have to wait long, though.   
  
"Well that's fairly interesting, I don't think I've ever heard of, um... what were they again?"  
  
"Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Hermione can tell you all about them, better  
than I, really," Luna said turning the conversation to an amazed Hermione. Once they had gone off on that subject, which went rather smoothly, Luna turned to Harry, and smiled.  
  
"I was what you went back for, wasn't I?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"I figured as much. I saw you running up and down the isles so I thought I'd save you the trouble of having to look any longer, but you obviously didn't have the same thought." She smiled at him, "Thanks for the thought."   
  
They kept on smiling and chatting with each other until Ron smacked Harry on the arm, signaling that we had arrived at Luna's house. It was ordinary enough, except the gardens were full of many odd/dead looking plants, there were calculations for arithmancy and potion ingredients scribbled on the side walks, the wind chimes weren't attached to anything and chimed with no wind, and the welcome mat was upside down, so that it welcomed one outside instead of in.  
  
"This looks like Luna," Harry thought. He saw Luna to the door; curious to see inside, when a frantic Mr. Lovegood came out, clearly dishelved and wild with fear, clutching Luna tightly.   
  
"Luna, dear, I can't explain right now, but could you please stay with  
these people? I'm sorry, I didn't forget you, and I hoped you would stay there. I packed some of your things, Oh I hate doing this..."  
  
"I know, Daddy, I love you very much and I understand completely," Luna  
said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, smiling, and turning to the car with her school trunk and politely asked Mrs. Weasley if she could stay with them a while.   
  
Harry just stood there, stunned. Mr. Lovegood had already slammed the door and was rummaging inside furiously. "That was quick," Harry muttered, turning back to the car. 


	3. Old Dust

"What's his name?" Luna was looking curiosly up at the ceiling of Ron's   
room. The ghoul was throwing pipes and had startled Neville. 

Harry, Luna, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville, were all squeezed tightly  
into Ron's room. Normally, the room barely fit Ron and his belongings,  
never mind five extra people, but they were gathered to arrange the first DA  
meeting of the school year, even though it hadn't officially started yet. 

Luna continued to stare at the rafters, as dust fell on everyone's  
shoulders, and no one answered her. Which was reasonable, since no one  
heard her.

"What is his name?" she asked again, louder this time.

"Did you say something?" Hermoine shouted over the noise. She had been   
taking ideas for a new headquarters until they went back to Grimmauld  
Place.

"Yes, I did," Luna nodded without breaking her gaze.

"Well, what was it?" Hermione said impatiently. She had never really liked  
Luna and told herself that getting angry or trying to straighten her out  
would make matters worse. But even Hermoine didn't listen to herself   
sometimes.

"I said, 'What's his name?'" Luna looked at the ceiling a little  
differently now. "I think it may be Brian."

"Please don't tell me you're talking about the ghoul," Hermoine shook her  
head and sighed.

"Well, since you said please, then I won't," Luna smiled at Hermoine and  
looked at the ceiling again, another pipe crashed against something solid  
and metal.

"No, maybe it's Albert,"

"Ron, do you happen have any working plumbing in the attic at all?" Neville  
asked cautiously, looking at the ceiling and taking a step towards the   
doorway.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" Ron questioned, the ghoul continued hitting the  
solid metal pipe.

"Just wondering,"

"No, wait," Luna paused, squinting at the ceiling. She turned and walked  
directly out of the room stopped two feet from the door and waited, while  
everyone else looked at her through the doorway.

She sat down on the landing and stared back at them. They all sat that way,  
just looking at each other, with "Albert" hacking away at the pipe still,  
until Luna looked up at the ceiling.

"'Henry,'" She looked at them again suddenly, "You might not want to stay   
in there, he seems rather upset."

"What does that matter?" Hermoine said and stared at Luna as everyone else   
raced into the hall and down to Ginny's room. As she and Luna continued to  
stare at each other, a small smile crept on to Hermoine's face as nothing  
happened, seemly proving Luna wrong.

Henry took his final blow at the pipe and sent the wrench he was using  
through the attic's floor, landing on Ron's bed. Hemoine looked at it and  
then at Luna, who was now knitting.

Large amounts of water suddenly showered Ron's room, Hermoine still  
included, and took to ruining everything.

Luna continued knitting a cobalt blue scarf, and paid no mind to the  
drenched Hermoine as she got up from the floor and walked down the  
staircase saying, "Yes, 'Henry' suits him well."

That night at dinner, no one dared speak. No, they were too busy trying to  
keep straight faces. Apparently, Hermoine's hair had a lot more frizz than  
anyone knew, and she had been using a small amount of Sleekeazy's Hair  
Potion every morning since last term, just to contain it. Well, with the  
absence of Sleekeazy, her hair rebelled, and not prettily.

The only person that wasn't turning purple with laughter or pride, was   
Luna. She sat cross-legged on the pick-nick bench in the garden, knitting a  
silver coin-purse, taking breaks to lick her fudgesicle.

While the others continued to stifle their laughter, Hermione straightened  
herself and stabbed at mushroom in the spaghetti sauce meaningfully. Harry  
and Ron tried to do the same and failed miserably, while Ginny was   
pretending to be very interested in her lemonade. Neville was trying so  
hard not to laugh, that he went to the toilet until he had recovered.

"Say anything and I'll curse you," Hermoine threatened calmly, making Ron  
stop in midair, open-mouthed and fore-finger pointing at her hair. Harry  
and Ginny both choked on their drinks.

Neville had returned and tried to sit down again, but then Hermoine looked  
up, he hair bouncing violently with the movement. He spurted with laughter,  
doubled over, and started to roll on the grass. Luna looked down at him  
curiously and suggested "If you stain your clothing, I know a charm that can  
fix that."

There was no helping it, the garden erupted around them.

When the noise had died down, the army settled back into Ron's room to  
discuss important topics.

"Now, does anyone have any ideas about where we should meet?" Harry stood  
on Ron's bed, while Hermoine sat next to him with some parchment and a  
quill.

Everyone shuffled and looked at their shoes. They were supposed to have  
discussed this over dinner, but no one had even thought about it.

"There is Ginny's room. It seems to be a bit smaller, but at least we   
wouldn't have to shout over the ghoul-"

"Henry," Luna corrected.

"-Over Henry so much," Harry suggested. No one took to the idea, but  
Hermoine did glare at him.

"Well, if no one has a better idea- Yes, Luna?" He was interrupted by Luna's  
risen hand, that nearly reached the ceiling.

"What about the attic?" She asked politely.

"What do you mean? Then we would be in the middle of the ghoul's-"

"Henry's"

"-tantrum. We wouldn't get any thing done. Besides, no one has been up   
there for years, there is probably too many Doxies to speak of." Hermoine  
said firmly.

"Actually, there aren't many at all. Before dinner, I went to speak to  
Henry, turns out that he is quite lonely. He also takes to eating Doxies,   
since they bother him so much, they aren't very friendly, so there haven't  
been any recently."

"You spoke with the ghoul? I can't believe it, you actually believe that   
you can talk to a ghoul? This is maddening! The next thing you'll say is  
that you chat with  
the giant squid on occasion!"

"No, I don't. He isn't very friendly, he wouldn't even give me his name."

"And so the ghoul is?"

"He prefers 'Henry' and, yes, he is," 

Harry had decided that that was enough. "Okay, so I'll check out the attic  
and Ron said he could see about Percy's room-"

"No I didn't"

"-and Ginny's room is still an option, and Neville, you can check around  
the rest of the house-

"What?"

"-to see if anything else is open. Luna, I think you'd better come  
with me."

Hermoine was glaring at her still, turning a little red, and not the for  
the first time this year, she almost buzzed with electricity. Everyone shyed  
out of the room as Harry and Luna walked upstairs to the attic. And yes, it  
started to get mushy.

"I'm really glad that I get to see you the rest of break, I mean, just  
Hermoine's reaction to you is worth giving up the extra bedroom and bunking  
with Ron. 

"Don't you two sleep in the same room all term anyway?"

"Yeah but his snoring seems to get a lot louder here. Must be the food."

"Oh, you're joking. Bill and Charlie both had there own rooms, correct?  
Well, with them gone, Fred, George, and Percy vacated, all six of us could   
have our own room. So if Ron really is that loud..." 

"Alright I get it. I still like you here, okay," Harry said with a smile,  
"Neville's not too bad either, I suppose he could only take so much of his  
grandmother. I don't blame him."

"She does wear some unfortunate clothing; I couldn't imagine wanting to  
wear something dead in the summer, even if it is a hat."

They acceded quietly to the attic (Henry was very upset, frightened even,  
and noise wasn't the best greeting at the moment), and Luna called to Henry  
as they reached the slanted attic door.

"Henry, it's Luna. I've come to see how you're doing. You're toe isn't  
bothering you any more is it?" She almost sang this in through the attic  
door; "I've brought my friend, Harry. He has come to talk to you about  
visiting more often, would you like that? Henry?"

She popped her head in and looked around the corner, curiously. "I wonder  
were he went. Oh well, come in Harry, there's plenty of room in here,  
you'll see."

Harry walked in cautiously, wand at the ready, and peered around the corner  
to see something he wasn't expecting. With all the rickety staircases and  
tiny rooms in the Burrow, he had always expected the that the attic would  
be small, consisting of used magical things, rafters and old dust. Nothing,  
even at Hogwarts, would have prepared him for this.


	4. Ceramic Tiles

Nothing. That's all Harry Potter could see. Nothing. It wasn't darkness; it wasn't anything, just nothing. And Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Although there was little to believe, that Nothing began to look like Something. Lights faded in on amazing swirls of color, dust formed into shape-less starbursts and the Something shifted forward. Amazed Harry looked behind him to find Luna, but instead the stairs had gone and there was another Something in their place. While turning to see it, Harry had moved his feet, not fully realizing that he was still surrounded by nothing, and fell.

It was the oddest thing he had ever experienced: he was falling hundreds of feet - maybe even miles - with a lot of Somethings going by and he wasn't frightened at all. Partly because it was rather calming and partly because he doubted that there was anything to fall into.

He was pleasantly drifting along in Nothing when one of the Somethings  
became violently angry with another and there was a blinding light. Luckily Harry wasn't exactly blinded and as his eyes adjusted Luna as helped up off the attic floor.

"Beautiful, wasn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

"The show. It's different every time, but that was the first nebula  
explosion I'd ever seen. It's amazing what's out there, don't you think?"

" You mean, that was-"

"It was several things, really. One of them looked like the Milky Way  
Galaxy but the other three nearest to it, I didn't recognize. I tried to locate Andromeda, but nothing seemed right. Did you recognize anything? I might have missed something, you know."

"I wasn't paying much attention, I, er- didn't, I mean – I couldn't figure…"

"It was a skeptaphoto, sort of like muggle films, only those are the same every time. I believe muggles now have three-dimensional films, with red and blue eyewear, supposedly more realistic then normal films – but they just look like the characters are attacking you. I really have no idea what they would do with magic – they come up with so many things already."

Luna was walking all around the attic, putting the skeptatphoto away in  
potently green case while she said this. The room had darkened again and Harry could vaguely see the stairway in its rightful place and he picked up his wand by the door. He steadied himself with a hand on the wall and sat down on a chair, not realizing that Luna had set her wand down on the same chair until there was a loud SNAP! and Luna turned to him, wide-eyed, with hair and clothing still swaying but body and mind completely still.

A sudden fear crept through Harry as Luna stared at him. She advanced  
forward, menacingly, looking down at him from a raised chin. His was afraid to break their gaze but even more scared to keep it up. With the slightest movement to remove himself from her path there was another loud SNAP! and he winced, turning from her.

"Well that's a relief," She sighed and relaxed.

"What? I just broke your wand!"

"Yes, but you also broke your own,"

"And how is that relief!?!"

"Tisk, tisk. The burden of a muggle existence,"

She grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him out of the way to retrieve the two broken wands (3/2 off of the chair and 1/2 out of Harry's back pocket) and Lit the chandelier above them. Every other light in the room followed suit and Harry the actual attic for the first time. Luna had disappeared behind one of the numerous doors and Harry glanced around the room. It was large, but crooked and looked as though it had once been the bottom floor of the Burrow. The rooms lead by the many doors looked just as commodious as the room he occupied. It was a large common room with tall fireplace and sheeted sofas. Spider webs lined the panels and dust cluttered the floor. Paintings and glass casings tainted by age and pipes bruised the walls, Henry's form of art. Harry walked further in and stumbled on a large, hard, gargoyle. It grinned up at him and returned to its former position.

He walked around exploring the old and adding a new sight to the portrait inhabitant's memory. They all looked at him curiously and twittered to themselves, wondering weather he spoke or not. Harry had never realized how observant silence was; almost as in a gallery, he strolled among the pictures aimlessly, randomly diverting his attention to anything that looked more interesting at the moment. Luna burst through the door and became the most intriguing in the room thing to Harry. She turned immediately and exited to the right, through a door which Harry followed, leaving behind hushed voices.

He entered a hallway but not fast enough to see which of the at least twenty doors Luna had chosen. He was welcomed by the strong crack of a losing door and the hush, then roar of cruel voices: snickers crowded the room as he tripped on the rug, sighing echoed at the opening of five more hallways, and disappointment rang in his ears when he stumbled onto a chair. Harry sank in his chair with defeat.

"She doesn't want to be found, you twit!" a gray wizard shouted from the wall; he seemed more recent then the others.

"How do you figure?" Harry sat up, slightly interested.

"If she wanted to be found, you wouldn't be alone, would you? She's clever; wait for a clue." He cast a knowing eye down at Harry.

Immediately following was a soft musical sound, nearly bells. Harry looked out of his disappointment and smiled. She was singing. He rushed at the door heading the hallway and pressed his ear to it.

"That's a boy, don't go scaring anybody off."

"I hardly think that Luna is easily scared," he kept his ear to the door and closed his eyes. It wasn't anything he had ever heard, but it was like something he had seen; it was the perfect description of Luna.

_Du gamla, du fria, du fjällhöga Nord, du tysta, du glädjerika sköna! Jag hälsar dig, vänaste land uppå jord, din sol, din himmel, dina ängder gröna. Din sol, din himmel, dina ängder gröna._

Harry hadn't heard much music over the summer and this made up for it in spades. The song was husky, strong and like an echo, but somehow delicate the way she sang. He could live and die at that door; just listening in on something so public, yet she sang like no one was there, off in her own world again.

_Du tronar på minnen från fornstora dar, då ärat dit namn flög över jorden. Jag vet, att du är och du blir vad du va r. Ja, jag vill leva, jag vill dö i Norden. Ja, jag vill leva, jag vill dö i Norden. _

She knocked something solid over with the last note, and with out exclamation, put it right again. As she set it back on a wooden table she muttered, "You may come in no w, Harry."

Not having to be told twice, he scrambled up and opened the door. He exited a lonely hallway and entered a warm kitchen, scatted with pots and open stoves and adorned by ceramic titles and marble counters. Luna had lit all of the stoves and arranged the sheeted furniture around them. She was bustling about, putting this in that oven and something completely different in another. While levitating a cookbook, and having a bit of her apron wipe powder off her nose, Harry wondered d if she knew that she was an underage witch.

"Luna-"

"Quiet, Harry. Henry is in the other room sleeping. Sing if you have something to say," Luna spoke quietly. Harry had no talent for singing and didn't want to subject anyone - let alone Luna - to t hat. Then again...

"Oh, darling! Please believe me! I'll never do you no harm," His voice cracked repeatedly as he continued the song. Luna turned to him andraised pale eyebrow. He was so involved inthe songthat he forgot what he was saying to her. She sat down as he went through his best air guitar and whatched the performance with dignity though he had little left.

"WHEN YOU TOLD ME, YOU DIDN'T NEEEED ME ANNYYMOORE,"

And it went on like that for several minutes until he had turned over every chair, played the imaginary instrument with his teeth several times and fell to the floor, exhausted. He heard polite clapping and then Luna's head appeared obove him.

"Are you finished?"

"I think so."

"Good, we have a lot of work to do."


End file.
